What in the hell is wrong with her? We don’t have time for this.

She downs the first round of drinks this Rubio guy buys and then pulls him onto the dance floor, acting like there’s nothing in the world to worry about. She has Rega on her tail, and darkness knows who else might be after her, and she wants to get drunk and dance?

Careless.

But watching her move….

Focus, Holden.

I tear my eyes away from her and set a subroutine to scanning facial features and comparing them to known associates of Rega Corps. A few quick thoughts and flicks of my eye and I have several programs going to scan the bar constantly, alert me to anyone new entering, track those leaving, and alert me if any weapons are detected.

Still, I’m concerned. Where there’s a will, there’s a way, and all the security routines in the galaxy won’t account for every possibility.

I’m drawn back to her. She has a gravity, an energy that calls to me, pulling me in. She moves with Rubio, lithe, energetic, each motion precise yet appearing spontaneous, in perfect time with the music. She shakes and shimmies, her body whirling around, dancing circles around Rubio, who’s struggling to keep up.

All I’m doing is leaning against the bar, and still my breath rate increases, as does my heartbeat. Monitors at the sides of my vision flash a warning as my blood pressure increases. Yeah, I know, damn it. She glances over, smiling, then works her way across the dance floor towards me. She holds her hands out, calling to me.

I try to resist. I shouldn’t dance with her. It’s stupid.

When her hands touch mine, it’s over. She pulls me onto the dance floor, and my resistance melts. Rubio moves beside us, but he might as well be on a different planet.

The music engulfs us, and now there are only the two of us. Her energy fascinates me. The way she moves oozes sexy. She’s gorgeous, and I’m enthralled. I can’t fight it, and in moments I give up.

There is no way in all the known Verse I should fall for this girl. I know too much about her. I know what she’s done, but it doesn’t matter. She moves, gyrating in front of me then whirling herself around me as we move in time together.

The music doesn’t matter any longer, we create our own. Flowing together, moving as one. She’s perfect.

I want her.

I can’t have her. I must… not.

She moves in, putting her body through motions I’m not sure should even be possible. It’s as if she has control of every individual muscle. Her hands touch my chest, sliding down as her body comes closer. Centimeters separate us.

My breath catches, and my heart leaps into my throat.

She rises onto the balls of her feet, coming closer. Her luscious lips move towards me, pulling me in. They glisten in the dancing laser lights, calling.

I want her. Want, desperately, to taste those full, plump lips.

Sparks jump between our bodies, so close, my cock pounds as blood rushes into it. Hard, pulsing need tries to grab control and push me towards fulfilling its desire.

I grab her hand and twirl her. When she comes back around, I cup her cheek with my left hand, locking eyes. Desire burns in her eyes, a raging inferno. She wants me every bit as much as I want her. It’s easy. Give in. Take her. She’s offering me everything I want.

The glee on her face, the desire in her eyes is tempered by an innocence that tugs at me more than her body does. She’s pure, untainted by her past, living fully in the moment.

Something changes. I feel the shift inside myself, as if the universe clicks into place in some strange way that I can’t put my finger on, but I know that everything going forward is going to be different.

I care.

I care about her. I’m going to save her.

It hits me with a force that’s so surprising, so unexpected, that it douses the fires of my desire. I release her and step away. Cutting through the crowd, I make my way to the bar, holding up a hand to get the bartender’s attention.

I order a drink and sit, trying to make sense of what happened.

The bartender puts the brown liquid in front of me, and I down it in a single swallow. It burns down my throat and warms my stomach.

I care. About Athena. The most notorious, dangerous, and probably still most wanted psi-op in the known Galaxy.

I’m way out in the black now. I hold up my hand to order another drink. My systems won’t let me get drunk so there’s no risk to it. It controls the alcohol level in my blood, never letting me have more than a buzz. I’ll take the buzz right now.

When the bartender sets my third drink in front of me, she slides onto the stool beside me.

“Are you always so serious?” she asks, huffing, sweat glistening on her exposed skin.

My eyes drift down across her perfect, beautiful face, full lips, down to the small amount of cleavage showing from her shirt.

Forcing myself to retain control, I turn away and stare at the bottles behind the bar.

“With your life on the line, I’d think you’d be more serious,” I say.

She quiets, and I see the smile fade out of the corner of my eye. A stabbing ache shoots through my chest. I’m a fool. That was uncalled-for. I’m lashing out for no damn good reason. She wiped her memories for a reason.

I’m being a hard-ass. Whatever it was she doesn’t want to remember had to have been something horrible. Bad enough that she doesn’t want to know. Knowing what she’s done before, I can’t imagine what it must be.

“Was I very bad before?” she asks, her voice soft, barely loud enough to hear over the music.

She’s staring at the bar, fingers drawing a small circle in a bit of moisture left behind by someone’s glass.

What do I say? It takes me a long moment before I answer.

“You were incredibly invested in your job,” I tell her.

The glass clinks on the bar as I set it down and hold my hand up to order another.

She nods, pursing her lips. Sadness pours off of her. It’s almost overwhelming as it hits me in waves. She’s filled with regret. Something I understand—I’ve certainly got more than my fair share of it.

“Yeah, I was afraid of that,” she says, a whisper I wouldn’t have heard without my enhancements.

I order drinks for both of us. We drink in silence.

A couple of hours pass with us racing to down drinks as fast as we can, until at last we rise with an unspoken agreement that it’s time to go home. We reach my rental without incident, taking appropriate precautions along the way.

Inside she plops down on the couch, puts in a set of earbuds, and then a tinny sound of soft music fills the air. She passes out without a word.

I cover her with a blanket. As I gaze at her perfect, beautiful face, the ache in my chest pulses in time with my heart. I get a pillow, carefully lift her head, and slide it under. Satisfied, I give Inara a bit of attention.

“This isn’t the Athena I knew,” I whisper to the bird.

She squawks softly, odd for her. Usually she’s louder. Smiling as I realize she’s being considerate, I shake my head and go to bed.